


Comfortably Numb

by qbubbles



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bottom Dean, Bottom Dean Winchester, Castiel/Dean Winchester in the Bunker, Destiel - Freeform, Ficlet, M/M, Top Castiel, Top!Cas, bottom!Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-12
Updated: 2015-03-12
Packaged: 2018-03-17 11:26:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3527573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/qbubbles/pseuds/qbubbles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Cas smiled and reached across the bed to push against Dean’s shoulder, flattening him against the bedspread.  He slowly lowered himself back onto Dean’s open mouth, resting his clothed legs between Dean’s thighs.  Between breathy kisses, Dean realized that Cas was beginning to just barely rock his hips against Dean’s.  The realization made his eyes roll back into his head as his back arched up to connect the two."</p>
<p>Dean just woke up from challenging Cas to a drinking contest.  Why are they naked?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Comfortably Numb

As he peeled his eyes open from the haze of the previous night, Dean's first reaction to Cas' hand resting on his bare abdomen was to jolt upright from bed. The sudden movements caused a blinding pain that exploded from his head down through his body. The last time Dean had experienced a hangover this intense, he’d been underage. The angel next to him shifted his body against Dean’s and lazily stretched his arms above his head, his “angel blade” on full display. They were both naked.

The hunter’s mind frantically started sifting through what few memories he could gather. Obviously there had been drinking involved. Pro tip: don’t challenge an angel to a drinking contest. How that had migrated from the main hall of the bunker to his room, though, was a whiskey soaked mystery. His clothes were scattered around the bed, intermittently mixed with Cas’. His face felt raw, like he had been rubbing against sandpaper all night. The realization that the sandpaper was effectively Cas’ stubble made the base of Dean’s spine tingle.  
He’d always acknowledged that he had a “profound bond” with his angel. It had only been recently that he’d begrudgingly accepted the underlying attraction. But this? Sleeping with Castiel in a drunken stupor was reckless and selfish. Dean had certainly encountered his share of one night stands, but banging women on the road in nondescript towns was not the same as the only person besides his brother that he loved unconditionally. And let’s be real, Cas’ vessel was not female.

His angel nestled closer to Dean’s side, sleepily pulling him back down into the warm recesses of the blankets. The scent of Cas’ soap filled his nostrils with the faint hints of the night before; pleasure, booze, their “throbbing members”, sweat, and the unmistakable lust blown pupils of two people who are finally giving in to the magnetic need that had been boiling in their veins for years. The fog of the hangover was starting to recede, leaving behind clear mental images of Cas grabbing Dean’s hair and pulling him into a startling and painful first kiss. Dean tugging at Cas’ arms, pulling him closer into the embrace. Cas peeling Dean’s shirt off his back while Dean clumsily worked at undoing Cas’ belt. The kisses that fluttered down his chest. Cas looking up into Dean’s eyes from his kneeling position on the floor. Cas smearing the precome around Dean’s head through his jeans, licking his lips at the gasp that escaped from Dean’s lips.

There wasn’t much that caught him off guard, but Dean was extremely grateful that Cas had been the one to control the situation. He didn’t think his nerves would have been able to allow for enjoyment if he also had to concentrate on the virgin mechanics of making love to another man. Cas slowly and deliberately removed every article of Dean’s clothing without breaking eye contact from his station at Dean’s feet. Cas’ hands agonizingly worked their way up Dean’s legs, coming to rest on his ass as he leaned forward and guided Dean’s cock into his’ mouth with his tongue. The only sound in the room was the rhythmic suckling and breathless gasps that escaped the two men. The silence lasted until Cas pulled away. The sudden uncoupling left Dean lightheaded and he had been forced to thread his fingers though Cas’ hair to steady himself.

Dean reached down and pulled Cas up to standing height. His eyes fluttered shut and cupped Cas’ jaw in order to kiss again; his scent all over Cas’ face. They blindly shuffled back over to the bed where they fell into a heap onto the single threadbare pillow that graced his room, never breaking their kiss. Dean’s hands roamed all over Cas’ muscled back. His angel was still fully clothed, but a Dean quickly removed Cas’ shirt to expose the Enochian warding tattooed to his ribs. It caught his eye and he touched it lightly with his fingers. The simple mindless action filled him with a warmth that radiated through his chest. He looked into Cas’ bottomless blue eyes and suddenly pulled him forward for a crushing, desperate hug. The innocent, intimate act had caught both men off guard. Sex was sex, but in that moment they were both, drunkenly, admitting something else.  
Dean broke the contact, first.

“Um. I’m sorry, man.” he remembered he’d slurred.  
“There’s no reason for apologies, Dean.” Cas had responded, his gritty voice only slightly hinting at intoxication.  
“What are we doin?” he’s asked incredulously, suddenly irrationally worried that he was defiling Cas’s purity. Dean remembered seeing Cas smirk his shit eating grin and respond with “Nothing weird.” It was all the encouragement he needed.  
“Alright, then. Let’s keep going.” 

Cas smiled and reached across the bed to push against Dean’s shoulder, flattening him against the bedspread. He slowly lowered himself back onto Dean’s open mouth, resting his clothed legs between Dean’s thighs. Between breathy kisses, Dean realized that Cas was beginning to just barely rock his hips against Dean’s. The realization made his eyes roll back into his head as his back arched up to connect the two. 

The friction between Cas’ jeans and Dean’s naked body made his head swim. He reached down to get back to work on freeing his angel from the bonds of clothing, Cas’ rutting changing from sweeping strokes of his hips to short shallow bursts, allowing for Dean to pop the button and unzip the fly. Cas sat up and shimmied out his white boxers and jeans, eyeing Dean’s body hungrily. Under Cas’ appreciative eye, Dean reached down and grasped his cock in his hand, lazily beginning to pull. At this, the other man scooted back and leaned forward to rest his head on Dean’s thigh, fisting his own erection at Dean’s feet. 

Being on display like that was intoxicating, and Dean could feel himself getting harder at the thought. He risked a glance over to his bedside table where his trusty bottle of lotion was within arm’s reach. (What? The bunker gets really dry.) He broke contact with himself long enough to flick the cap and pour some into his palm, putting the bottle back down onto the bed. When he replaced his hand he felt Cas’ moan travel up his leg.

Part of him wanted to take a step back and analyze the situation; there was a naked angel of the Lord with his face up against his balls. But his whisky addled brain quickly emptied, and refused to process much more than tactile sensation.  
Speaking of tactile sensations, Dean suddenly noticed that Cas’s head wasn’t resting on his leg anymore. His eyes fluttered open as he felt two warm, slippery fingers spreading his ass apart. As if on reflex, his knees shot up to allow more access. Cas was watching Dean masturbate with fascination as he massaged the tight knot of skin that was the means to both of their ends. Dean’s breathing was shallow, now. He was nervous. Obviously this was the natural progression of things, but he was scared that this was too much. He was worried about the morning, the next day, and the next, and the week after that. He was going to fuck Cas. Or, rightly, be fucked by Cas. The boys had done some shit, as of late, but if anything was going to send him to hell, again, it was definitely going to be for fucking an angel. 

As Cas’ finger began to sink into Dean’s ass, his mind went blank.

Fuck it.

Dean’s eyes shut in an instant and he experimentally pushed his hips forward into Cas’ palm. As soon as his prostate came into contact with Cas’ pulsing finger, he felt his shoulders relax and knees fall open. Heavy deep breaths replaced his short shallow ones, and his hand tightened back up against his dick. One finger was replaced with two, alternating the pressure against the heavenly bundle of nerves deep within Dean. He had to be careful. He was going to come, hard, but he didn’t want it to happen too soon. He wanted Cas with him. He wanted to share it.

“Cas,” he breathed. “Please. Please join me. Please, Cas.”  
“Of course.”

Dean’s ass was empty, again. The sudden removal of Cas’ warm fingers sent a shiver through his body and he raised his hips into the air, feebly trying to chase them. Cas’ hands flattened against Dean’s thighs as he pushed him back down own to the bed. Cas stroked himself with his lotion slicked hands, and lined his cock up against Dean’s entrance.  
Dean wasn’t prepared for the sharp tight pull of skin around Cas’ shaft. He hissed in a quick breath at the initial intrusion. Cas looked up, concerned. 

“Dean?”  
“I’m ok. Really. Go. Keep going.”

Cas pushed deeper against Dean’s ass. He slid in easily, bottoming out with his fingers digging into Dean’s hips. The groan that escaped Cas’ lips could have easily awoken Sam. Maybe it did. Dean didn’t care. He was too busy rocking his ass so that Cas’s head was rubbing against that spot. The frantic need to come, between both men, was quickly making Dean bold. His hand wrapped his cock and he started pumping in tandem with Cas’ thrusts. He had never felt this way, ever. The trust between them was freeing.

Cas’ head was thrown back and he was laying into Dean with reckless abandon, his breath coming ragged and uneven. Dean reached his arm around Cas’ neck and pulled himself up, pressing their foreheads together. They were both sweat drenched and almost out of breath. Between the alcohol warmed blood and the heat of their bodies, it took all the strength Dean had so that his arm didn’t slip off from around Cas’ neck. 

Cas came first. The thick ribbons of come adding another layer of pleasure deep within Dean. His end came a few strokes later. The hot, sticky sperm mixed with the perspiration between the men as they both caught their breaths.

That was about all that Dean remembered with clarity. He was certain that they’d cleaned up, maybe mumbled some drunken phrases at each other, and obviously fallen asleep. When he thought about it with a clear mind and Cas’ peaceful snoring in his ear, he wasn’t ashamed. He was still nervous and scared, but didn’t feel guilty or regretful about their night. He only wished his brain would stop throbbing.


End file.
